Tears In A Paper Cup
by Laura Night
Summary: Chapter 3 Now Up. New Character, but please don't go running away screaming. She's no Mary Sue, actually she likes to beat them up, but anyway. All she wants is to be left alone, but of course that just isn't in her future, she should know... R&R please?
1. Bite Size Pieces

_**Disclaimer: **I own Kilrarie, Nichelle, Greg, Mike, and all of those who don't belong to Marvel. I don't mind sharing but I reserve the rights to Kilrarie, she's mine weather she likes it or not. X-men belong to Marvel, Pity them._   
  


_Hello all. I know no one wants to hear about a stupid new character but please just give me three seconds of your time. At first it's more of a TCP then anything else. In this chapter I've done my best to make her look human. Unlike most Mary Sue's she has flaws and good things not just one sided. This is my first attempt at a new character, give me a break. There probably won't be any romance for a while if at all, depends how the story goes. If it totally sucks then tell me. If you want more tell me that too. If I can the next installment will be up soon, as long as Fanfiction.net can hold out long enough for me to post. Thank you and now on with the story…_   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Tears In A Paper Cup 

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Hey Kilrarie, I got this for you."   
  


I looked up at Nichelle's eyes so dark they looked black, complemented by her red lips and clear complexion, my best friend looked beautiful. Why she gets so dressed up to work in a run down coffee shop, I'll never know. But I look at the medium sized box she handed me; leave it to her to know it was my birthday. That's what I get for hanging out with a telepath. The box was not too big, it would fit perfectly into my mini-backpack but what I liked about it was the flashy silver wrapping paper. She said I was like a squirrel or some animal like that, attracted to shiny things; it's something we both can laugh about.   
  


"Thanks, it's so nice of you to get me this. But man am I tired, I just worked a double shift and I'm going home, ok?"   
  


She nodded in that understanding way of hers and whispered happy birthday as I put the gift in my pack and headed towards home. She crossed the street to go to the little coffee shop she worked at. The little neon lights flashed "open" as she entered, the morning sun started spilling light across the street and a few costumers went in almost right after Nichelle. The few streetlights that were working went off and you could sense the city starting to wake up, though it wasn't really that interesting considering it never really went to sleep.   
  


I sighed as I thought about now being 17. I wondered if I should call my Aunt. If she has even noticed I'm gone. I started thinking about my parents. I stopped for a second, I still have about five blocks left to travel, thinking about my parents was not what I wanted to do right now. Think about the Diner, think how much you hate working there but at the same time love the freedom it gives you. Think about the rent that's due in a week, just don't think about them.   
  


I took the back alleys smelling of dead animals that almost made me throw up. At least there was no one sleeping that I might wake up today. I started humming and singing some Nickleback song to keep me from getting sick. I wish there was a better way to get home, but the other ways didn't go by where I needed to go to get some food. About a block from my house I go in Mike's convince store and grab some food, all pre-packed and so unhealthy that probably no one without my fast metabolism wouldn't dare eat it on a regular basis.   
  


Mike is a guy in his late 40's who's married. He has a mild case of adult acne, greasy hair and a small beer gut. All and all he's down right ugly inside and out. Even though he's married, with kids I might add, he still looks at me the way a cheetah might look at a wounded gazelle. I come in a couple times a week unless I get some food at the Diner or from Nichelle. I smile at him as I grab my usual junk food and go to pay.   
  


"Hey Kilrarie..." he said in a way he thought what 'seductive' should sound like, it came out more as 'creepy'. "...you know if you keep eating that shit you might just lose that hot little figure of yours, now you wouldn't want that would you?" he asks the same thing almost every time I come in here, why I don't just stop coming here I'll never know.   
  


"Well I'm not worried." I say with a slight smile as I give him a twenty to cover the 18 dollars I'm getting in junk food. He hands me back ten dollars with another of what he considers a sly smile. I give him a short nod as I turn to leave. That's why I keep coming here.   
  


"See you soon, Kilrarie." They way he says my name makes me feel cheep and dirty. I know I didn't do anything but right then, and every time he "accidentally" gives me the wrong amount of change, I felt like some of the hookers and sluts that he ends up with on occasion. I pick up my pace as I suddenly feel the need for a shower.   


**** 

  


The door to my building has graffiti covering it, tags of a local gang, the super is pretty good about cleaning that off, it must have been done in the night. The door also has a look to it that can only be complemented the pealing green paint and several boards in the windows of the 6 story building. The sun is creeping up to where I might have trouble sleeping. I hear the screech of a siren as I unlock the main door and close it behind me. Cop cars, wake up call for the poorest people of the city. I guess that includes me. Only I'm going to bed, I have to work the night shift for the rest of the week. The stairs to my room, apartment number 3C, are old and creak when I walk up and down them. I'm always slightly paranoid that I'm going to fall through them so I run my hand along the faded striped wallpaper that must have been there since the early 70's along with most of the stuff in my apartment and the others.   
  


I smile and say 'Hi' to one of the nameless men who live in this building. I've never bothered to talk to any of them, I just don't want to deal with them I guess. I get to my room, this time remembering to take my key out after I unlocked it. I put the food I got on the counter and soda in the little fridge. The freezer broke last week on it, I lost a bunch of frozen food before I noticed it. I need to get Dan (the super) to come fix it soon. Old dishes, still in the sink from when I first moved in sit just looking dirty. Nichelle said, the last time she was here, that if, when she came by again, and they were still sitting there she'd throw them at me. I know she's too nice to do that to me so we laughed about that too. We seem to have a lot of jokes between the two of us.   
  


I used the plates once when I was dating Greg; I cooked for him and everything (burnt it all but it was the thought that counted). He dumped me the next day. Said he found someone better.I cried and screamed and broke a few glasses, then I felt better cleaned the up the broken glass, cutting my hands several times. I still have scars from those. I don't really care, they were here when I moved in so I let them stay there. That was almost eight months ago. I haven't been on a date since. Haven't really wanted too. Greg was 22, rich and a flirt. We dated for three months before he ended it. I was hurt to say the least and he just moved on like we had nothing. I am willing to move on, I guess I just haven't found anyone to move to.   
  


I go in my bedroom and sit down at the dresser. Looking back is a girl with pale gray eyes, hair a funny red-blond, wearing a hideous pink waitress outfit. Nothing special about me. Oh yea I wish. I take off the layers of makeup I have on and look again, not really much difference. I never liked to wear makeup but somehow, I still wear it. I think it makes the guys like Mike, and other random guys in the Diner, seem like they only act like that because I wear the makeup, showing some cheep girl who gets that attention a lot. I don't like how I live but at the same time it gives me a sense of freedom and independence that makes me want to depend on someone. I grab my backpack that was sitting next to the dresser. I take out the present Nichelle gave me and carefully undo the wrapping paper, I might need it for something later. It's a plain black book with white lined paper bond with blood red coils for the binding, and on the front cover it says, "One by one the Penguins steal my sanity…" I can't help but laugh a little. On the inside cover there's an inscription from Nichelle.   
  


_Hey my girl!_

_ I know you've had a lot of shit to deal with so, I think it'd be better if you wrote some of it down. What if one of those penguins steals a big piece? Why don't you WRITE down your problems instead of turning them into four letter words to take out on the rest of society?_   


_Loves,_ _Nichelle._ _P.S Happy 17th Birthday!_   


That girl is too nice to me. She has a lot of strength and heart. Her boyfriend spoils her and her little 4-year-old boy is great. She's 24 and lives in a pretty good apartment a few blocks from here. She's moving at the end of the month, don't know what I'm going to do without her, but I couldn't be happier for her. Her and Ryan (her boyfriend) are moving to a little town outside the city, a good 35 miles from here. They're going to raise a family and live happily ever after. I just hope her fairytale dreams don't get ruined. She deserves to be happy.   
  


I think I might want to write down my life in the book, too much has happened and I don't want to forget any of it, even though a lot of it's painful. After I write down the past I can use it as a diary for all that will happen and a log for all my little power trips I get, they have been happening more and more lately. Right now though, I'm going to go to bed and sleep. I pull the blinds over my windows shut, the streets are starting to fill up and the sun is getting brighter and brighter. I grab a nightshirt and change out of my worn and dirty waitress uniform, I'll need to go to the laundry mat later today.   
  


My bed is a queen size bed that I had a hell of time getting up to the third floor. It's on a frame that came with the apartment, squeaky, rusty and ugly but it was here and what was I going to do? It was easier just to use it then take the one from my Aunts place. Aunt Laurie, I haven't talked to her in almost a year…   
  


I sighed as I flopped down on the bed, listening to the comforting squeaky sounds I've come to love from the bed. Lately, I've been missing going to school like a normal kid, doing anything like a normal kid, but I guess that's just how it is, considering how not normal I am…   
  


I crawled under the covers and rested my head against my pillow and shut my eyes. I let my thoughts wander and I guess I fell asleep. I felt a sense of pride in my heart, knowing I live on my own and live pretty good at that. I also felt a sense of peace just knowing my life had a sort of order and although it's not what I really wanted knowing it'll do. For now anyway.   
  


For a moment I was happy or at least content. Then with the sound of splinter wood and the realization that I no longer had a front door and a good piece of the wall for that matter, my world broke in to little bite size pieces…   
  
  
  


_OK! That's all so far, what do you think? Does it suck? Is it ok? Does it make you want to cry from all the grammar mistakes? (I'll do my best to keep them back though! Just don't be too picky!) I'll have the next installment up soon like I said, review's make me work faster. I promise I'll get to a point soon. I bet your all wondering where I'm going with this, eh? Well I guess we'll all just have to wait and see! Oh and a question, is this too long? Too short? I really need some feedback about this!_   
  


_--Laura Night_   
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Breaking The Silver Platter

_Now I know your all going to hate me for this but I'm not sure who is coming through the door yet so I decided to go back and show why she lives the way she does. This is pretty short compared to how long the next chapter is going to be. Thanks for all the positive encouragement and if I get too clichéd at all in this, tell me and I'll fix it, making it new and original! Flam me though and I'll bring the marshmallow's! Seriously though if this is over done and I get too much of a negative response I'll post my other idea. I want this story to be original and not stupid like some new character stories are. Down with Mary Sues! Ok yea now for part 2 of_ **_Tears In A Paper Cup: Breaking The Silver Platter_**…   
  
  


Breaking The Silver Platter   
  
  
  


One Year Earlier…   


I didn't always live on my own or with my Aunt for the matter. I had a nice home on the outskirts of Boston Massachusetts, life, in general was good. I had lots of friends, went on dates, and played field hockey for the high school team. I was an average teen-age girl. Key word for that sentence; _was_. Then everything went to hell.   


It started the day after my freshman semi-formal. It was a first for my school, they usually only do junior and senior semi-formals but this year, since we were the biggest freshman class the school had ever had, they let us have one. I had gone with my friend Matt, because I didn't want to go with Justin, a freshman that had been held back for a few years and was 16. Justin also had one hell of a bad temper. There were rumors that he sent some girl to the hospital for a week, even though she denied it to the cops and everyone else. Most just thought fear can do that to a person. Two black eyes, a broken arm, a broken wrist, and more bruises than I can count can make almost anyone suspicious. That was in the eighth grade. After that he didn't have a girlfriend for a long time.   


Some how a girl, Danica I think was her name, went with him to that dance. She just moved here and didn't believe those who said he beat that girl. I admit it though, he was a jock, good looking, got good grades, and seemed perfect. That's what should have tipped off everyone. Perfection is a lie; it's broken and ugly underneath. But I must digress.   


The next day, I woke up to a phone call from my best friend Katie, telling me to turn on the TV and that Justin had been arrested. I wasn't too surprised I figured he robbed a convince store or something like that. It seemed every day the 7:00 am news had a few convince store robberies to report. I said bye to Katie not letting her rant about something I wasn't paying attention to. It was too early for me to think straight. I put the receiver back in its cradle and sat up to go see what exactly happened. I threw off my dark purple sheets and white comforter and headed to the door. I paused as my hand reached for the door handle; I suddenly felt different and had a new sense of the world around me. I saw things from more than one pair of eyes; suddenly I was far more different than I ever wanted to be. That's when it happened, for the first and most painful time. The pain was just constant till the day after, not helped by my parents at all, but that comes a little later. There was a bright flash turning my world white, then, millions upon millions of little blue bubbles carried reality away and showed me with Justin. It was like some creepy dream, one that I still wish I'd woken up from. One that I wish I could just forget. But I can't and now I wouldn't want to.   


He was leaning over my body knife in hand, all bloody and looking like something out of a bad horror movie. His eyes scared me the most, they were crazy and his charming smile gone, a sinister grin replacing it made me want to believe this was just a dream. The last bit of reason I had said that was stupid and wishful thinking gets people nowhere. Then as fast as it had come those little blue bubbles put my world back together, or how it looked anyway. After each 'vision' my world is never quite the same. I was terrified, confused and had a sudden urge to beat the shit out of Justin. My hands trembling I went downstairs to see my parents sitting in front of the TV.   


"…Apparently after the Lincoln High School freshman Dance last night. Justin Vallincourt, a 16-year-old freshman, took fellow freshman, 14-year-old Danica James to the Red Garden restaurant in Woster, where he stabbed and mutilated her body. Witnesses say…"   


The news reporter droned on, with that false sense of sadness that showed she didn't get paid enough to wake up this early and drive to a grimy place and tell the story of some girl she didn't care about. I stopped listening too in shock to do anything. That happened to her, not me. Could it have happened to me? Will it happen to me? The question's burned through my mind and I just became more and more angry, tears of confusion, anger, and grief flooded my eyes. I felt a new presence in the back of my head, a cynical, bitter new voice but I knew it was part of me. Right now it was urging me to leave them, run away don't tell them what you are. I knew now exactly what I was.   


My mom turned to me, tears in her eyes, she knew the James's she worked with Danica's farther. A look of concern appeared on her face as she stood, my dad standing too once they both looked back at me. I had fallen to my knees shaking uncontrollably. Fighting through tears I decided to ignore the little voice now screaming in my head. _Don't tell them! Leave! They'll make you leave anyway! They'll hate you! You can never come back if you tell them! _The voice was part of me, screaming and just as terrified as me, but the fact that it _was_ just my own thoughts scared me more than the vision. I learned quickly that after each 'power trip' as I call them, I keep my connection to the futures long enough to let it effect my choices. But which future it is I can never tell, so I have to guess. I can either ignore it or take the advice, I have a fifty/fifty chance of being right, but so far I've only been wrong. That's probably why I'll never gamble in my life. Here I made the first wrong choice in a whole long line of mistakes, but none hurt as much as this one. I decided to tell them I was different, and just how different I was. I looked up at my parents and spoke softly fearing the reaction I knew was coming. 

"You know how you said I was different and special? Well, I don't think you know how right you are…"   
  


**** 

  


Three days later, I saw New York for the first time and got a letter from my parents saying that they'll send me money and gifts and I didn't need to come home any more. 

I met my Aunt Laurie and found out that she didn't give a damn about me or anyone for the matter and that I had nowhere else to go. 

My life fell apart and within two month's I moved in with Nichelle and got my job at the diner part time. Then, two month's after that, I dropped out of school, got my own place, and started working full time in the diner I also found that looking on the bright side is stupid when there is no light to look to. 

Eight month's later, my life was going nowhere but to little bite size pieces… 

  
  
  
  
  


_Ok sorry it was so short but I wanted to post something and I swear I'll have the rest up REALLY soon. I just wanted to make sure that I get the rest of this edited, my best friend/beta reader is in Washington for Thanksgiving so that mean's I have to do it all my self and I really suck at it so it'll take longer for the next few parts till she gets back. Is this chapter interesting? Is it over predictable? Can you start to get what her powers are? I swear the next part will make more sense then I'll get back to the cliff hanger I know you all want to kill me for not continuing. READ AND REVIEW! Please? More reviews=more sense._   
__ __

_Next Chapter: Who burst through the door? Why? And what is the author's obsession with 'bite size pieces'? All will be answered soon…_   


_--Laura Night_


	3. When The Cup Over Flows...

_Ok here's the next part, I really hope this goes over with ya'll well. If you don't like it, please say so, I can take it! This is a mini-chapter; the other half will be up very soon. Ok now on with part 3 of **Tears In A Paper Cup: When The Cup Over Flows…**_   
  
  
  
  
  


When The Cup Over Flows…   


The noise scared the shit out of me. I was terrified; no one had broken into my apartment when I was home before. I jumped out of bed, tripped because the sheets were wrapped around my foot, now lying on the floor I scrambled to grab the gun out of the nightstand drawer. I slowly got up and started creeping towards my bedroom door; from there I could get a clear view of the intruder. Opening the handle just enough so I could peak out, what I saw surprised me.   


There, standing among what was once my front door, were two guys. One was short and sort of greenish looking, he was yelling at the taller guy who looked like a kitty on steroids. The short green guy was saying something about how the noise would attract people and the taller one just growled. He looked like the type of guy who spent his whole life perfecting that growl, the way his sharpest teeth showed and he puffed out his chest and everything. He also looked like he was debating if he was paid enough not to eat the green guy. He turned and stepped in to the kitchen as the green guy bounced into the small room where my busted TV was sitting on an old crate in front of a beat up couch. I quietly shut the door and threw a pair of shorts on that had been lying on the floor. One look at these two and I knew it was fire escape time; no telling how long they'd be busy, but it probably wouldn't be for long. I grabbed my coat and through on a old pair of worn sneakers as I opened the window and climbed on the ledge and started down as fast as possible. Something told me that they weren't interested in what I have in my apartment but more of well, me.   
  


Why the fuck they wanted me I didn't know. But when a man who growls more than talks is trying to get you, you can tell that it's not just to have a friendly chat over a cup of coffee. I could hear them destroying my apartment and I knew that I needed to get far, far away very fast. As I landed on the last landing before the street about ten to fifteen feet down, I looked up and saw the green guy looking down at me. He blinked a few times then called over his shoulder for the other guy before starting down him self, he was fast. I think he called the other guy 'Sharp Tooth' and he was 'Frog' but I'm not sure. I jumped over the railing hit the street pretty hard, knowing that my knee injury I got at basketball camp four years ago was going to make it clear that it is still there and very mad I forgot about it. Taking off into the back alley I could hear them shouting.   
  


"Bloody Hell! Hurry the fuck up will you! If Xavier's punks get to her before we do, the Boss will kill us, if Mystique lets us live that long…" There was another growl as I could hear two sets of footsteps gaining speed as I ran through back alleys trying to lose them.   
  


I still couldn't understand why anyone would be after me, I don't have any debts to the local gangs or loan sharks, and I don't gamble, why the hell do they want me? Still a basic rule is if someone wants you and you don't know why, you probably don't want to know anyway. Running in shorts and an old nightshirt through back alleys of New York was so not what I had in mind for how to spend my Birthday. I rounded a corner thinking that I'd lost them, they were pretty close but a couple of cars slowed them down. Getting hit by a few cars will do that.   
  


I'd been running for ten minutes, doubled back twice and now I couldn't see them anywhere so I stopped to catch my breath. I leaned against a faded red brick building in an alley with more flies than alley, and that smelled like old food and dead things. Why do I always end up near dead things? Someday I'm moving out of the city and getting a nice job back in Massachusetts. If I live that long. After resting for a few minutes I decided to poke my head out of the alley to see if things were clear for me to get to Ryan or Nichelle. I was sure that if I got to one of them they could help me figure things out.   


Then I saw claws attached to a kitty on steroids digging into my stomach. The claws twisted and dug just under my ribs, too close to my heart for comfort. I screamed out in pain as the green guy covered my mouth with a cloth that smelled odd. Some sort of knock out drug I guessed. I figured my odds to getting out of this were about as good as winning the lottery without buying a ticket. Then they dropped me, I landed hard on my side on something that was either broken glass or very sharp rocks. I screamed out in pain as tears started forming in my eyes, this was not what I had in mind for how I was going to die. That thought sent chills up my spin or what I could feel of it, I was going to die. I could tell I was losing a lot of blood but I tried to get up, I knew I needed to get away from them, or they would kill me. I tried a few times but my loss of blood and drug induced state wouldn't let me move more than a few inches then collapsing painfully back on to the ground. I managed to turn to face where they had gone, back into the street. The drug that he put over my face was really messing with my vision, everything was getting blurry. But I could see that they looked to be preoccupied by a group in black spandex, there were about five of them. I looked up as I lay bleeding on the sidewalk and saw red flashes of light and then someone coming towards me.   


I closed my eyes and heard some more growls and other fighting sounds. When I opened my eyes again, there was a black woman with snow white hair kneeling over me, she said a few soothing words, like how they were going to help me, and that everything was going to be ok. My mind got pulled into a short vision, when I opened my eyes again, I looked up at her blue ones. She stopped speaking and trying to cover my wounds for a second. Then put a comforting hand on my shoulder that wasn't cut and bleeding from the glass. Her hands were warm, her smile as gentle as her words when she spoke next.   


"Child, you will be fine, the X-men will prevail. I will help you, do not worry." She said in a soothing voice that made me think she dealt with hysterical children way too much. But I knew better. I knew the out come of this battle, I'm going to die and something bad is going to happen to one of the sides fighting here. I forced a cynical smile then I spoke.   
  


"No, I'm going to die and you… and you…" I croaked out, not realizing how dry my voice had become. She gave me a sad smile, but just kept doing her best to get me ok enough to move me. I couldn't finish what I was saying, I wasn't sure myself. My head was swimming now; I don't think I could stay awake much longer. Then her com-badge went off. 

"Storm, we need you! Mystique and Magneto are here watch out for…" 

The male voice never finished the warning that had come too late. She took a blast full to the chest and was sent flying backwards into a dumpster, she didn't get back up. I blinked my eyes becoming heavy; the last thing I saw was the outline of a woman with blue skin…   


_YEA! Ok! That was really intersting wasn't it? Who will she end up with? (Put your idea's on who you want when you review) I know I know another cliff hanger but how else am I going to get you to come back? Remember reviews mean better and longer chapters!!_


End file.
